


Ghost of you

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-03-24 19:26:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13817853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: Prompt: Emma is a paranormal investigator, She hears stories of a haunted castle and decides to investigate the paranormal claims of an Evil Queen who haunts the castle. Asked by anon via tumblr





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As the exception this prompt in particular was just too rich to leave it in one single 1,5-2,5k length one shot so I wrote a three arcs for it. I thought at first on posting it in one go but I decided against after thinking about since a chapter longer then 4k tends to be too much sometimes. So here it is a prompt I was asked to do an obscene amount of time ago. I hope you like it and remember, comments are greatly appreciated!

 

The rustle of the leaves as Emma opened the intricately decorated door filled the space while the blonde let the woven details of the surface bit into her palms, her arms pushing the double doors open until she was able to peer inside. The walls and floors were covered in the same vines and cracks that had welcomed her the very same moment she had stepped outside her little car, the smell of stagnant water and thick sheet of dust making her gag as the grey light that filtered through the broken windows cut the air in pale beams that only highlighted the emptiness of the blackened walls in where the absence of any tapestry felt more apparent as the blonde took a step away from the almost moth-eaten rug that had muffled her steps until now.

Dragging a shaky breath and nodding to herself as she saw the puff of air raising for a second before disappearing into one of the beams of light, the blonde grasped her necklace tightly, trying to see anything -from elusive shadows to vague footprints, into the room that, taking into accord its size and placement, could have only been the throne room. The very same center of the room felt bare, devoid of something as if a throne had once stood on it. Instead, jarred pieces of rubble covered that part of the floor alongside with leaves and water that had found their way through the broken windows. Windows, she realized with a start, that couldn’t have been directed to anywhere since the façade of the building had been covered with dark -yet still complete and unbroken- windows.

Walking inside, the blonde crouched just a few feet away from the door, brushing her fingers against the dust covered floor, the itch of the dust settling on the back of her throat as she waited for anything to react to her intrusion. Nothing, however, from glyphs or voices, could be heard on the room and so she rose, narrowing her eyes while waiting for any shadow or presence to reach from between the grey-hued beams.

The only thing that stood, she soon realized, was the red and black painting that had once upon a time had hung from one of the now bare walls and which now waited in one corner. Almost completely hidden the painting was half broken and almost disintegrated under her probing fingers when she touched the crackled surface. Her breath got caught on the back of her throat as she found herself staring directly to a set of brown eyes, mostly disappeared by time yet almost gleaming with life as she took on the shadow of a face that seemed almost to smirk at her; the shade of old blood stained her fingers as she took a step behind, the pigments, despite the time, still seeming to take a hold on her skin.

That was the moment she felt a hand on her shoulder, a whisper on her ear.

“Was that you?” The question fell flat as she knew the answer already, her voice getting caught in the tall ceiling in where the stone work got lost among the dark shadows that seemed to be growing around her, the sound of the rustling leaves being quickly replaced by the sound of footsteps and the rustle of fabric against stone.

Heart beginning to quicken, the scent around her turning from dusty to ozone-filled, Emma turned, narrowing her eyes at the presence she could feel tickling the protective guards she always had on her body.

“Hello?” She asked, her voice raising, echoing. No one answered her but she knew she had overstayed.

-.-

“And so, you left.” Ruby was leaning on the doorframe, eyes glinting and red nails drumming against her own forearms, arm-crossed as she was. Her waitress uniform still on and wrinkled, her posture slightly slouched from the perfect posture Emma had seen on her the day before, when she had arrived with only a letter from Rumple Gold and the prospect of a job dangling from her lips.

Sighing and rubbing her eyes Emma took off her necklace, the swan motif cold on her fingers as she inspected it, shrugging before glancing at the tall brunette.

“She didn’t want to talk… or communicate in any other way.”

“That’s the way it usually goes.”

Emma growled at the brunette’s comment knowing well that she was absolutely right. At least for people who didn’t know how to communicate with ghosts. Or any other kind of magic being.

However, she knew how to; that had been why Rumple Gold had contacted her with a shoddy call and an ever stranger letter that had only drone on how good would be for a town she had almost never heard of to get rid of what the man had dubbed as “Our own paranormal problem.”

Nibbling her bottom lip and glancing back at Ruby who was now tilting her head at her, a slightly amused expression on her face, she sighed twice before pointing at the bunch of herbs she usually carried with her, the chalk and small tubes in where she kept the oil and holy water glinting softly into the dying light of the room which, if anyone wanted Emma’s opinion, needed a makeover.

“I don’t usually try the quickest route in this.” She admitted, blaming her tiredness and the still bitter taste of Killian’s words as she had walked towards her car that very same morning in the unusual frankness she was displaying. “You know” She added as Ruby glanced at her, obviously not understanding her.

Had she never read a book about this? She knew that some places weren’t fond on talking about magic in general but talking with ghosts was quite normal on small towns like this one. That was the reason why she had moved to Boston after she had managed to get a name of herself as a paranormal investigator. There was just so many ghosts of old ladies one could stomach after all.  _“Still, you are here, in a small town once again.”_ “The whole ritual thing. I’ve found that the spirits in general tend to get angry whenever you try to light candles and communicate with them as if they can’t hold an actual conversation.”

Ruby snorted slightly and Emma found herself smiling as well. It had been, she thought, a long day from the moment she had opened her eyes and had found Killian’s angry ones staring back at her from the corner of her room.

_That’s what you get from trying to help the spirit of a sleazy pirate to cross to whatever dimension they belong to instead of doing your actual job._

Blinking rapidly and trying not to yawn, Emma sighed a little more and put the pendant back on her neck, her fingers cold against her skin. The waitress, who had been the only one in the small town to actually look at her with something else than blatant curiosity, kept on eyeing her. She was slightly younger than Emma, the blonde had decided, three, four years top and was definitely interested despite the obvious lack of basic knowledge on what entailed to make a ghost talk to you.

“You know Gold’s phone number?” She blurted at the end, tired and already wanting to sleep a little before next morning rolled by. “On his letter he only gave me how to find the ruins and your address to get some place to be while staying here.”

“I’ll ask Granny to give it to you tomorrow.” Ruby replied, turning already and taking a step outside the room. She seemed suddenly nervous but Emma merely grunted a “thanks” as the door closed, Ruby’s wish of goodnight getting slightly lost on the creaking of the old bed Emma now got to fully appreciate.

-.-

She had a nightmare that night which was something she had counted on, considering the sheer energy the ghost had displayed. She still hadn’t taught herself to transform those into lucid dreams but the moment her body floated above the castle she had been inspecting hours before her knowledge kicked in and a part of her recognized it as it was.

On the dream she followed the same path she had done during daylight; the same cracked stones and glass welcoming her presence as she kept on floating from abandoned room to empty corner until a pull from inside her ribcage halted her in the hazy black air that seemed to create the atmosphere around the dream itself.

The moment she followed that pull, however, the walls changed again, repairing themselves as she pushed open the door of the throne room in where now the dancing flames of torches painted the place in reds and purples that seemed to almost swallow the throne which, yes, was where Emma had imagined it to be.

Empty but still ominous the throne kept on pulling Emma towards it until everything the blonde could feel was the anguish that came out of her, in dark waves that formed a retreating silhouette.

She awoke with a start, her whole body buzzing with magic and the guards she had on her pendant completely spent. Groaning, she tossed the sheets above her head and went back to sleep after noticing how, coming from some place outside the dinner, a wolf’s howl reached for the stars.

-.-

Gold’s pawnshop was the physical embodiment of the man that welcomed her into it. Old and emanating a kind of power that made Emma’s eyes shift towards the darker corners of the place before swallowing, feeling the rich scent of magic coating the walls of the place from the very old objects that were on display.

Looking up towards the glass mobiles that encapsulated the little light that managed to shone through the thick glass that divided the shop with the outside world, Emma let her eyes get lost on the blue and transparent unicorns that stared back at her with their eyeless sockets as she felt the man’s own stare following her every movement with a smirk dangling from his lips and his cane drumming softly against well-cared parquet.

Raising one hand to hover above the unicorns, Emma tilted her head to her right, the quiet sound of cars passing by at the other side of the now closed door muffled and almost swallowed by the place itself. Silencing guards; impressive.

“When you sent for me I’d have never had thought a warlock would need any help with a ghost.” She infused her voice with nonchalance but the moment she turned she could see Gold’s eyes glimmering red before the man’s façade fell once again into place, a slow smile -not very different from his welcoming smirk- stretching his thin lips in a way that made the blonde almost uncomfortable as they kept eyeing each other.

Shrugging and walking towards the wooden counter at one side of the shop, Gold left his cane dangling from the counter’s edge, the stick falling in an almost unnatural angle that Emma stared at before Rumple’s voice rose again in the perfectly composed accent he seemed to have.

“I knew there was a reason why you were so well recommended; Miss Swan.”

Emma merely hummed at that; she had talked with enough warlocks to know that the most powerful ones never truly admitted being one. Their object of power would be in danger if they did that and, as expected, a part of Emma’s brain started trying to decipher which of the many objects that covered the walls could be the man’s _focus._

The walking stick was far too obvious and Emma casted the idea aside before blinking, using her own blank smile while waiting for the man to keep on talking.

“I understand you have already inspected the ruins?”

Nodding, Emma fiddled with the pendant she had spent enough time that morning to replenish with her usual guards.

“You are right in there being… a presence.”

At Gold’s encouraging nod Emma kept on talking, approaching the counter and blocking the objects around them; one thing was knowing the person in front of you was a warlock; another not falling into spells or protection guards they may had at hand. Warlocks tended to be immensely paranoid and she didn’t feel like falling into a trap just due to a lack of vision.

“I couldn’t communicate with… her but she manifested this night after leaving the castle. Nothing I could really work with but enough to draw some clues. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

Gold’s brows arched at it but nodded, smile still on place and hands absentmindedly pressing the surface of the counter. A detail Emma didn’t let it go unnoticed.

“I’ll be happy to help as much as I can.”

Clearing her throat and reaching for a small notepad Emma absentmindedly knocked on the central sigil written into the cover before opening it, eliciting a small glow from the pages that swiftly filled themselves with the notes she had taken as soon as the rising sun had awoken her a second time that night. That did make Rumple brow to arch but the man didn’t comment on it as Emma read a few lines to herself before directing them to the man.

“The ghost seems to be a woman; someone from the royalty or with enough connections to it.” She found herself thinking back on the portrait, the way the presence had seemed to look at her, reach to her from the shadows the moment she had asked for her. “I saw a portrait but I didn’t feel any magic coming from it so I’d say that the presence…”

“Has simply permeated the ruins.” Gold’s voice finished her train of thought; the following condescending smile making Emma clench her notepad before nodding curtly, ink lines forgotten. “I’m not new to how ghosts and apparitions may behave dearie.”

Pretending to not have listened the almost paternalist edge Golf gave to his tone, Emma sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, quickly and almost angrily running her hand through her hair, nails grazing her scalp as she did so.

“Then you must know that I’ll need more than just the knowledge that they are an apparition for me to actually contact her. If she is used to roam free through the ruins is useless to try and focus her presence in one single place.”

Gold resumed with his smirking, lacing his fingers together as the air between them felt about to suddenly freeze. His cane was still waiting for him to pick it up and Emma glanced at it before staring back at the man, a glint of something else apart from magic echoing on the back of his stare.

Silence stretched until the man said, in a very mild tone a name Emma quickly jot down, three lines underlining the name.

“Her name was Regina Mills.”

-.-

“Regina?”

The ghost name felt heavy on her tongue and Emma could feel it climbing through the dust and years that covered the ruins walls in patterns she couldn’t truly see but could feel on the way they prickled her skin. Taking a deep gulp of air, she kept on circling the throne room, her right hand following her movements while touching softly the harsh rock, her fingers falling inside he crackles and getting covered in that very same grey specks that seemed to almost be raising under her call.

She considered, not for the first time, to try to summon the ghost with the conventional method as she had said to Ruby; candles and just enough sap and chalk to create a magic confinement. The mere idea, however, didn’t sit well on her and so, as the other times she had thought about it, relegated it to the back of her mind.

Her aversion to rules would eventually kill her; a part of her mind whispered, the one that still resurfaced from time to time; that kept on staring at her with the stern look of someone she had vowed herself to never become. Magical traps were not the only way to get to speak with ghosts or any other creature, just the quickest ones and she very much preferred to speak with them through the hard way rather than using what she suspected was as painful as trying to make anyone talk while poking at their insides with a metal rod. Not that she had tried the latest on a human.

Shaking her head and freeing herself from the cobwebs such thoughts always brought with them, she left the walls and positioned herself next to the forgotten portrait; her eyes going traitorously towards the figure it displayed. She knew already that the way a presence had been in life could be nothing like the way they wished to present themselves while dead and still when she called for the woman again her mind went to the shadowed picture.

Picture she had had the opportunity to study as a photograph on a dusty history book thanks to Ruby’s friend; Belle. The woman was the local librarian and had been happy to answer to every question Emma had come up with after her meet with Rumple Gold.

“We don’t really know how she came into power or how she fell off from it.” She had said, gentle expression scrunched in a frown. “The only thing we know from her is that she owned the ruins and seemed to view over this part of the land.”

Nothing too detailed then. Emma had touched the spine of the book, almost waiting for it to be infused in Gold’s magic only to be met with nothing but a series of boring lists in where, yes, Regina’s appeared next to what seemed to be a close copy of the portrait she had discovered. Something that had made her frown considering how no one seemed able to explore the ruins.

Belle had shrugged at her appreciation, eyes already lost in a novella the blonde couldn’t make up which was.

“They are just too old and we haven’t been able to speak with her. I think that’s why Rumple decided to send for you.”

Which, Emma had found herself thinking when she had exited the library, hands deep on her pockets and almost the same number of notes than when she had entered, was also strange on itself. The man had felt just far too powerful for her not to be able to get rid of an apparition; no matter of strongly it felt for the ruins that had been her home. That missing piece had been enough for Emma to walk back towards the dinner and grab a few more guards before returning to the castle; the mental map she had made the night before hazy in a few points but not enough for her not to be able to reach the main door by midday.

Now, an hour after that and with the only aid of the sunlight that managed to slip through the cracks, Emma straightened her back and called for Regina infusing her voice not with a commanding hex but a beckoning one. One that would let the spirit know how she had come there only to talk.

Magic, as it always happened with her, trickled out of her mind ever so slowly, pooling around her wrists before bleeding out of her in thick globes that she could only see if she squinted her eyes. She had never been much of a magic user, never truly had liked the power or find any solace on it. That was why she had transformed in an investigator; less potion making more actual gum-shoe work.

Feeling her call beginning to reach for the hidden parts of the room; the one time had covered, Emma took a deep breath and waited.

She was used to wait; the lack of a trap made the ghosts curious but lazy on answering as soon as they realized they weren’t going to be forced to be summoned and so a “natural” ritual was supposed to be as long as the ghost felt like it. However, as soon as her magic started to permeate the floor beneath her, no other place to go, Emma began to feel tired much quicker than she would normally feel.

Tension beginning to accumulate on her shoulders, she tried to change her stance, deciding that a more relaxed one could help her. As soon as she did so, however, she realized that she had made a mistake and so, as nausea began to creep through her body, she could feel her whole body going slack; unable to move or answer to her commands.

Next thing she knew was the darkness beckoning her; the sound of footsteps accentuating the pounding blood on her ears as she did so.

-.

“Breathe, there, just like that. I thought I had left quite clear to not go in here, miss stranger.”

Emma swallowed as she opened her eyes, the world around her still too bright for her mind to properly understand it.

“Who…?” Her question died on her lips as she took on the figure in front of her; brown eyes and brunette locks just the same shade the portrait managed to display; mistreated as it was. The clothes, however, weren’t the ones that could be make it through the passing of time but something with less red and more black reflecting the now dying light around the two of them. “Regina.”

The woman in front of her threw her a warning glare as Emma stood and checked for her pendant, her magic spent. Stupid, she thought, she had forgotten to consider how rock could very well act as an almost vampire spawn with magic, sucking it all out. She should have never tried to do a beckoning hex. Not without a proper counter spell.

“I believe we haven’t been introduced for you to call me like that.”

Emma almost snorted but her body hurt too much and the guards she had were beginning to titillate; informing her that she had less than a half an hour before she was left stranded in the middle of the ruins with an angry ghost and no way of returning home but walk several hours in a place she wasn’t familiar with.

Renown investigator? Maybe she should start answering phones with “Emma Swan; stupid sorceress.”

Clearing her mind from those dark thoughts and knowing well that they came from frustration and tiredness Emma cracked her neck by tilting her head and looked directly to the ghost in front of her.

To the woman, her mind corrected, because there was no doubt that Regina Mills had retained the figure she had had while alive.

“I’m…” Emma stuttered. “I’m Emma Swan; paranormal investigator.”


	2. Chapter 2

_“I’m Emma Swan; paranormal investigator.”_

The words still floated between them when the Queen’s presence shifted and blinked in place, a gash appearing on the gown at her chest’s height only to disappear the moment Emma’s eyes zeroed on to it. At any other given situation, she thought with a sour smile on her face, she wouldn’t have even blinked but with her energies more or less depleted her very own usual defenses seemed to be out.

The ghost craned her neck and kept glaring at her, just the barest hints of magic painting her silhouette wherever she went. Another magic user then. The thought made Emma’s confusion grow; she should have heard of  sorceress queen on that side of the world. She had done her homework after all.

The smell of magic and the way the brunette’s figure kept being illuminated by her magic, however, begged to differ and so she kept staring at the queen who, looking anything but amused, kept glaring at her as her costume changed once again with something that seemed to be a closer copy of the one the battered portrait displayed.

“I’m Regina Mills.” She offered, brown eyes narrowing with a glint that almost made her look alive as she took a step backwards the moment Emma straightened, guards on her body chiming twice. “Although I have the feeling you already know that considering your little… display.”

The last word was said with distaste dripping from every vowel and Emma couldn’t help herself as she felt a soft chuckle threatening to escape her lips. The queen seemed to be rightfully angry but she hadn’t asked for her head which, she supposed, was good enough taking account what kind of ghosts she had been forced to deal with.

“I guess I didn’t calibrate the sigils appropaitely.” She found herself answering, a shrug ready on her shoulders as Regina’s figure titillated once again, becoming closer and almost fog-like on consistency before reappearing again at her back, real enough that when Emma followed her movements with her body she couldn’t help but gasp at every single detail that was on the other woman’s dress. Usually, ghosts so old had already began to deteriorate; body shape and self-awareness beginning to loss meaning to their consciousness. Regina, however, kept every detail of herself as crisp as she was still alive and a part of Emma’s mind wondered what would happened if she tried to touch the other woman’s dress, feel the fabric beneath her fingertips.

“Clearly.” The ghost answered, waking her up from her reverie. “Are you an apprentice? Only one would forget to create a counter spell with rock so close to them.” Coming even closer to her, eyes boring into hers and skin so real not even a millimeter of it seemed translucent to Emma’s trained eyes, the brunette continued. “You look rather old for being one, though.”

Another sorceress then. Witches didn’t do spells like the one she had performed and she very much doubted she would have missed the symbols witches used to wear on her clothes considering the intricate details the ghost’s dress had. Not falling for the brunette’s jab and being this time the one looking at the other woman curiously, Emma tried hard not to halt too much on the obvious beauty of the ghost. Considering the slight smirk that seeped through the other woman’s eyes, however, she didn’t truly success on that department.

“I’m not that used to practice my magic.” She admitted. A truth she knew well that she needed to remedy. Even if she preferred the gum-shoeing if it hadn’t been for the ghost…

And finally, it hit her; before losing consciousness, she had been able to hear footsteps. A sound that the ghosts could recreate, yes, but never produce on their own. Looking down at the brunette’s clothed feet she could see them firmly planted on the floor, her figure even casting a faint shadow on the crackled floor’s surface. One that was directly hit by the light that still cascaded its way through the open holes of the castle’s walls.

“Are you really a ghost?” She finally asked, the dumbness of her question assaulting her the time Regina muffled what could only have been an incredulous chuckle.

“I thought you were the “paranormal investigator”, not me dear. And I already told you that I didn’t want you here so, if you mind….”

“Wait.” One hand’s up and sigils glowing on her wrist, Emma halted the other woman’s words, eliciting a small frown on the Queen’s face and another blink on her figure. The same gash than before was present and, unconsciously, Emma found herself looking down, towards the woman’s chest in where, amidst the teared-up clothing, flesh seemed to be more or less intact. “You aren’t one, are you? And you aren’t a wraith either since you can talk.” Glancing back to the woman’s eyes, trying hard not to blush at the expansion of flesh she had been able to glimpse, Emma let her senses reach out like they had done in front of Gold’s presence, trying and prodding to feel anything beyond the usual energy that surrounded her.

It was faint at first, Regina’s brown eyes sucking her in as the other woman’s cheeks hollowed, the brunette seeming to consider for a few seconds what could happen if she kicked her out of there, but she felt it. Emma, despite her sudden realization that ghost or no ghost the brunette in front of her seemed capable enough to kick her butt, zeroed on the tingle just an inch too far from her, a nest of carefully constructed words that appeared on her vision for a moment before disintegrating again, their existence quivering and defying time again her knowledge of magic.

A curse, her mind informed her, a very well written one, one that had been able to rewrite reality itself down to every dot.

“You are cursed.” She sighed, blinking back into reality and noticing how close she was from the Queen now, surprise beginning to show on the other woman’s pupils as she kept on speaking, breaking through the mist on her brain as the chain of words blinked at the same time Regina did. “The whole place is cursed. Isn’t it? You are its guardian.”

It was time for the brunette to seethe, white teeth clicking as she closed her jaw forcefully, a growl almost falling from her now locked mouth.

“I’m trapped here, Miss Swan. Just like everyone else that falls under its words. The curse is my jail.”

They were both interrupted by the charms and guards chiming again, signaling that time was up and their protection had finalized. Energy spent and charms uncharged, Emma blinked at the other woman, knowing well that, if the brunette desired to attack her she would be virtually useless and, as much as she loved the gun she had strapped to her, little thing could do to an entity like the one the brunette was. Ghost or no.

Blinking out of the circle and reappearing next to a piece of rubble that could have very well be a detail of the intricate ceiling above the two of them, Regina’s entire form crackled in purple before changing appearance again, the clothes she wore close to anything Emma would see at the present instead of the dresses she had seen the other woman in since meeting her.

“How were you cursed?” She asked as the brunette’s clothes changed, blue replacing black and a tight bodice without any visible gash making her stammer. “How… How long ago?”

Eyes hard as the same rock that had almost killed her, Regina snapped at her gaze back at her, neck tense and magic pouring out of her like electricity, almost touching the air before disappearing completely.

“I think it’s time for you to go.” She whispered, the same force Emma had felt the day before beginning to pound on her temples. Back when she had first sensed it she had been convinced that it was a ghost what she was dealing with and she had attributed it to the usual energy that always followed them. This time, however, fighting against it and taking a step towards the woman, magic dribbling out of her as well, she recognized to the silent hexes for what they were.

“Regina.” She said, eliciting another warning glare for the other woman. Nevertheless, she licked her lips and spoke again; one hand pointing at the portrait as she did so, letting it fall the moment the brunette glanced at it. “I was asked to come here because I was led to believe you were a ghost.”

“Then you can tell whoever that sent you that I’m not.” The retort came with a gust of wind that robbed Emma her ability to speak for a moment, lungs being deflated as she gaped. Magic essence coated her tongue and she wondered how she had missed the cues, blind as she had been.

_“This is why you keep taking the small jobs.”_ She reasoned with herself, calling for her mental shield and waiting for the other woman to stop. _“You still need to learn.”_

Narrowing her eyes, she thought back at Gold’s shop, at the power that had been present there, oozing out of the man, heavy on the air they had breathed. The man had been the one who had told her the woman’s name, his lips thin as he told her every detail that had led her to believe the woman she now had in front of her, titillating, was just a ghost, a relic of a past long gone.

“I was sent here by Rupert Gold.” Her voice rose, clear as ice on the abandoned throne room and the moment the name hit Regina Emma knew she had been right on her decision to say it outload. Nostrils flaring, the woman’s magic stilled, the curse glimmering on the quickly receding sun that transformed everything around them in scurrying shadows that almost felt alive around Emma’s figure. Disappearing and reappearing at her side, the blonde felt a sudden chill running through her back the moment Regina rose one hand to touch her forearm, the movement halted by the brunette a millimeter away from the investigator’s skin.

“I know that name.”

The succinct tone broke the shadows which, parting beneath the brunette feet as she walked past Emma, coming closer to the abandoned portrait at their side, quivered in the same way Regina’s figure seemed to do the moment Emma blinked.

“You do?”

The question was left unanswered as the woman kept on staring at her own face, pupils dancing from every corner of the painting, from the intricate brocade to the up-do in which her hair had been drawn. Pointing at her neck, the brunette beckoned Emma at her side, the sudden rush of magic that pumped through the blonde’s veins enough to make her stumble as she did so.

“There.” The brunette said, pointing at a small black jewel; shaped like a diamond but far too dark in color for it to be real. “As you may know, Miss Swan, every curse comes with a trigger; something that can breaks the _wordchains_.”

“I know.” Emma narrowed her eyes at the smirk that appeared on Regina’s face but let her talk. The woman could be lying, she had been around ghosts and entities that did that, trying to regain their place among the living. This one, however, didn’t trigger her lying detector and so she let her speak, entranced as she was of how her voice rose and fell.

“I’m trapped here, encased into the ruins and unable to leave them. You, however…”

“Why are you trusting me with this?”

“Because, miss Swan, the entire town is under the same curse. You might be an idiot but I hope you are an honorable one.”

* * *

 

The return back to the dinner was slow but Emma walked through the dark path in a daze, her mind far too full of what the brunette woman had told her.

_“Storybrooke was my home.” The woman had said, contrite and hands folded on her lap, her silhouette a blur. “I’ve been unable to speak with a living soul ever since I was cursed, left in these ruins to turn mad. Until, of course, my magic began to bleed through the soil. The rock was a fine touch; making me weak and unable to break the word chain but…”_

_“Magic cannot be contained, not forever.” Emma had added and had been rewarded by a small nod and a look of appreciation she felt flustered enough to smile shily at._

_“Exactly. My consciousness, however, is trapped within the jewel. If you destroy the jewel…”_

_“The curse will be gone.”_

As she entered into the dinner, mind still full with what Regina had told her, her eyes caught on Ruby’s. The waitress brows were arched in warning just as Gold turned from his place at the counter and smiled at her, cane between his hands and rings glimmering under the place’s lights. Unfortunately, there weren’t any other exists but the one she had just used and so Emma found herself staring at the man’s eyes, noticing again the heady scent that preceded the man’s power.

He had the focus within him, that much was clear and Emma felt the telling on her gut -the same one she had felt back at his pawnshop- that she couldn’t really trust the man. Not really.

“I see you’ve returned.” The man’s voice held the same composure than he had had back at his shop and Emma narrowed her eyes at it, feeling it almost crawling up her neck, whispering words that hadn’t been said aloud on her ears. “How was your second visit? Did she show up?”

At his back, Ruby had her eyes on Emma, something close to worry etched on her features. Feigning nonchalance but still wanting to convey power Emma put both of her hands at her back, writing one single glyph on the air that infused enough strength on her voice for Gold to smile at her, clearly impressed.

“I still need to work a few details. Mix some things maybe. You know how complicated these things can be.”

“I certainly cannot.” Gold’s teeth almost glowed as he made a non-comital smile at her, fury clear on his eyes. The scent of magic was now stronger, almost making her gag as it closed around her throat and Emma could feel her eyes beginning to water under it; not once looking away. “But I’m sure you will find a solution; won’t you?”

“I’ll try to.” The blonde conceded, following Gold’s approach as he came and surpassed her, hand reaching for the door’s handle.

“I’m sure you would.”

And, with those last words, the man left the dinner, his magic dissolving into nothingness as soon as the clicking of his cane disappeared into the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N So… when I wrote the first draft for this story the idea fitted in three separated chapters. Happy with it I decided to start posting and edit as I went through them. Problem was that through the middle of the third chapter -which would have started at the end of the last one- I realized that the story truly didn’t work as I had imagined at first. Regina’s reason for being trapped, for example, wasn’t explored as deeply as I wanted at the end and several details on how magic was supposed to work didn’t either. Deciding on not erasing the first chapter as I had already posted it, I rewrote the second and third chapter.
> 
> You can imagine what came next. A few more additions that changed almost everything so… I’ve just changed the little three chapters up there to the “?” mark. The story *still* has problems; the sudden change but my decision on not changing the first chapter created a ripple effect so I needed to do quite the info-dumping on the second chapter. Which it may be not that noticeable but I still cringe a little while reading Emma’s inner monologue at some points of her scene with Regina; it became something that needed to be done, however, so I could keep the story going but I don’t erase the possibility of finishing the story and retouch it a little once it’s all posted. All in all, this third chapter is one that has quite a lot of scenes that I hope put everything slightly more into perspective and go back to my usual “voice” for these stories.
> 
> Enough of this lengthy author’s note -if you are one that reads them Hi, I deeply appreciated and so; as an easter egg, if you go to my tumblr (shadowdianne) and search for the ghost of you tag there are a few posts that work around the worldbuilding of this world ;)

 

“So, no ghosts.” Lily’s voice sounded strange through the static of the phone and Emma growled inwardly as she impatiently walked back and forth over Storybrooke’s city line. Reception was awful on that side of the woods that surrounded the town and, as she carded her fingers through her hair, she glanced at the silhouette of the buildings that waited for her beyond the crowns of the trees. 

“More like a curse.” She replied, realizing that the other woman was waiting for her reply. “The old-fashioned ones; magic written in the air and everything.”

A hum and the ruffling of some papers told her that the other woman was leafing through the few pictures and notes she had taken of Storybrooke and left on top of her desk before going to the actual town. She had messaged Lily the night before, asking for her help and the brunette’s response had been a few cutting words and a simple question Emma found thinking on it as she waited for her friend’s response. _“Why did you accept the job?”_

Trying to get out of her flat was one, of course. Being able to pay her bills was another and leaving the ghost that she knew would be waiting for her at her return was one she knew resonated within her bigger than the two previous ones. Still, the job had changed and she wondered, not for the first time, how much Gold truly knew about the ruins and what they had inside.

“And you are sure this… woman didn’t create it?”

Sighing, Emma shook her head while walking a few steps towards the natural border that separated Storybrooke’s road with the rest of the world.

“She didn’t seem to be lying.” Her response was met with another hum, one Emma knew was laced with slight skepticism. “Lily, she is a sorceress; the curse was written with sigils I didn’t understand. I’m thinking witch or mage.”

“Or warlock.” Came the muffled reply, Lily’s voice almost disappearing before reappearing again. “You said something about that man, right? The one who hired you.”

“She seemed to recognize his name.” Emma conceded while walking towards her car, searching for her keys and fiddling with them before trying to open the door of the driver’s seat. She had thought about Gold’s reaction as well as Regina’s after sending a message to Lily but she had fallen asleep before deciding on the matter; her dreams filled with the brunette’s eyes. “Still, creating a curse like this and then hiring a paranormal investigator? It doesn’t add up.”

“I can’t help you with that.” The dragoness at the other side clicked her tongue and Emma could imagine her eyes glowing gold before returning to their usual color, magic shield titillating just enough like every time Lily grew impatient. “If she isn’t lying to you, however, I’m afraid she is right. A curse is always created so it can be broken in case something goes wrong. It’s basic hexing. If she is right about the jewel you need to break it so she can be free.”

Emma narrowed her eyes at the soft tone Lily used. She was tired, she thought, opening the door and sitting behind the steering wheel. Around her the smell of pine sap filled the air and she tilted her head so the breeze would reach her.

“The thing is that I don’t know where to start.”

“Try searching on the man’s shop. Warlock’s are hoarders after all.”

And, with one final click, Lily was gone even before Emma was able to tell her that she was sure breaking into Gold’s shop would led to a very painful death.

* * *

 

“I don’t usually have people asking for the town’s history.” Belle put a few heavy books on top of the clerk’s desk while smiling sweetly at Emma as the blonde nodded, mind elsewhere.

The dusty library was just as empty as it had been the former day and, through the clear large windows the merciless sun sauntered in; its rays hitting the surface of the rowed tables. Shaking her head while realizing that Belle’s warm smile was still directed at her, Emma muttered a quick thanks and turned, leading to the closest table; her mind already jumping to the thoughts she had put on hold a second before.

Lily had been right, of course. She probably would need to go to Gold’s eventually; the man’s power far too strong and sleazy. The unsaid question her friend had obviously been screaming at her, however, was slightly more difficult than realizing that if she wanted to know more of Regina’s imprisonment knowing how the ruins had come to be would be an excellent first step into learning how the curse had been built; Why did she keep doing that? The mystery had more or less been solved; the woman wasn’t a ghost and, not being one, there was very little a paranormal investigator focused on hauntings could do.

Frustrated, she put aside a chair and dumped the History books; each of them beautifully leather-bound; not a single nick on their cover. Dropping her jacket next to the books and quickly glancing at the first of the pile, she almost missed Belle calling from her back, right hand fumbling with the fingers of her left’s as Emma finally turned.

“Ruby came here last night.” That explained why the woman who had been completely engrossed on her novella last time she had been there was now staring at her with a glint Emma had already seen once or twice during her PI work. “Is it true that you are here to send the ghost away?”

Tilting her head, Emma focused her magic on the woman she had in front of her; she wasn’t particularly paranoid and considering how Belle was friends with Ruby she very much doubted that the other woman’s question was anything else but born out of curiosity but Gold’s figure kept looming over the back of her mind. The chestnut-haired girl, however, returned her gaze with one full of curiosity Ruby had shown the same day she had first seen Regina; no magic floating around her.

Of course, her mind told her, there were witches capable of shielding their magical powers but she put a hold to such thoughts. She really needed to take a nap before going back to the ruins.

“I’m…” She paused before nodding once; slowly. “I was hired to take a look at the ruins. Yes.”

“So, you are a medium?”  The world caused Emma to wince; nothing further from the truth. Belle nonetheless, kept staring at her, a shadow of confusion obscuring her eyes as she noticed the grimace.

“I don’t really do the whole séance thing I’m afraid.” Emma replied, causing Belle to lower her hands, visibly deflated. “I’m more of a detective. I ask around, see how the ghost came to haunt a place and then…”

“You free them?” Belle eyes twinkled, seeming for a moment younger than the twenty somethings Emma thought she had. Ruby’s age perhaps.

The word free was a reality though and so Emma nodded, trying not to think on the cases she hadn’t quite been able to reach the bottom of them; the ghosts too old or too rooted around the object of place they had haunted, unable to see past it or the memories they brought. Nodding one more time she weakly pointed at the history books; the covers still calling her.

“I tend to do more research than actual “freeing” though.” Coughing awkwardly, she shrugged. She had never been that good with explaining herself, not when it was outside the brief talk she used to have who whoever that may have hired her. Ruby’s chats had been exhausting on their own but after a few days of nightmares she felt drained.

She always felt like that however, whenever a case didn’t get solve within the first few hours. The magic and the tension did the rest. Bothered, she run her hand over her hair, trying to answer whatever question the librarian might have.

“I’m sorry.” Belle’s words brought her back from her mind’s corners, the younger woman’s timid reserved smile replacing the one full of wonder. “I know I can sound eager. I’ve spent all my life here, Ruby too, and we tend to daydream what can be out there; what we could do outside.” Sighing, Belle spread her hands, showing the rows of books that flanked their sides. “I love reading and magic but there’s just a finite number of books you can read before you start to…”

“Wonder.” Emma finished, repressing already the memories the idea of repressed magic brought within her. “Why don’t you leave then? You could go to Boston, or further if you want.”

It was Belle’s turn to grimace and, as she did, Emma chastised herself for even saying that to the woman. She was quite used -or had been once- to leave everything behind; her possessions on one bag. Not everyone was like that.

“Is unusual for us to leave Storybrooke.” The words were laced with resignation, Belle’s light slightly dimmed.

Brow furrowed, Emma leant her upper body closer to Belle, curious. “You? You mean your family or…”

“No, us, from Storybrooke.”  Belle’s reply came quickly and something inside of Emma pinged. “I don’t think no one has ever left the town.”

Emma had been on places like that; places in where nothing changed; in where no one tended to leave because that was what they had seen for their whole lives and so they didn’t see the point of leaving. Places in where someone wished to leave but couldn’t. However, perhaps slightly influenced by Regina’s figure; her obvious desperation of seeing herself trapped within the confines of the ruins, she turned and picked up the first history book. The one who had already leafed through the day before, trying to find any picture of Regina only to find a quite good picture of the paint that was half-eaten by rats at the point. A picture, her mind said, that couldn’t have been taken on that room since the painting had already been collecting dust and tears inside the ruins by the moment pictures had even been invented.

Unless…

Goddess, she was an idiot.

Twisting her wrist and commanding her glyphs and guards to arise, Emma channeled her magic, eyes narrowed as Belle fell silent, looking at her intently even if Emma seemed to have forgotten she was talking to her.

It took a couple of minutes; the string of words elusive to her under her fingers but, ultimately, as she began to wonder if the ink of the book had been written with squid ink or something equally magic repelling, the power that surrounded the book lifted, as if a thick mist finally dissolving just beneath Emma’s fingertips. It left a reddish glow on the air, the scent and taste eerily similar to the one who had been on the ruins the night before.

And the book, Emma realized, that had been a History book until now was just an empty one; blank pages staring back at her where until a few minutes ago dates and names had been displayed. Frantically, Emma leafed through the rest of the book; all pages blank.

“Belle.” She called, her voice tense. “Who was the last person that asked for these books? Besides me.”

When Gold’s name fell from the woman’s lips Emma didn’t feel surprised. Perhaps, she thought, it was time to really have a talk with the sleazy man.

* * *

 

The door of the shop resisted her for a second, car keys still dangling from her hand as she pushed a second time, getting the door to open with a louder-than-normal thud that seemed to be swallowed by the shop’s walls the moment she took a step inside wishing more than ever that she actually remembered to bring something else than a few guards and some badly memorized spells whenever a potential magic fight could break loose.

She had a mean punch though, and she had all intentions on using it if she really needed to do so.

The drive to the man’s shop had been short and uneventful but her mind had been reeling with the possibility of the man to be tampering with her only silver of clue she had been able to rely on since arriving to the town. Lily’s call had kept repeating itself at the back of her mind as well; the question of “why” echoing on repeat.

It wasn’t just the case, Emma had answered to herself while doing a turn that left her car’s inwards possibly trembling. It wasn’t merely the case, the rush of a mystery which something she loved but also Regina’s call for her honor the night before. The way the brunette had taken care of her as rock had leeched her magic out. She could have just left her there. The thought had sent a shiver down her spine. It would have been perfectly acceptable after all. Regina, however, hadn’t and, despite having her mind scrambled, her very own persona titillating every few seconds, her motives, her worries, had resonated true to Emma’s ears.

The curse, Gold’s attitude and the fact that the books of the city had been tampered with warlock’s magic… painted quite the different masterpiece on Emma’s magic. And if there was something she truly hated was people who bullied, who acted as if they were untouchable; better than anyone else.

She had had her fair share of those and she didn’t plan on working for a man like Gold anymore.

The dusty scent of the magic inside the shop was what made her turn, lips pursed and left hand slightly thrusted backwards, wrist upturned so her fingers could curl, guards activated.

“You seem jumpy, Miss Swan.” Gold’s smirk hadn’t changed but his eyes were darker now; a silent warning Emma had every intention to break if the man didn’t answer her questions. Again, a part of her mind pondered what on earth could be the warlock’s _focus._ Nothing, from his suit to his rings, seemed to be imbued with power and the longer she thought on it the stronger she realized that she had seen very little of what the man’s attitude called for power. “Do you have found something new?”

Narrowing her eyes, Emma swallowed thickly, abandoning her stance and keeping just her hand, power contained. Barely.

The man’s eyes didn’t show any emotion further than the warning that were already there but Emma saw the slight flicker to her hand as she didn’t put the guards down. Curiosity. Which was something that was quickly explained by how Warlock’s had the ability to gauge one’s power better than anyone else. Yet, there was something else, worry?

“I went to the library.” She didn’t bother to seem nonchalant but the man nodded and walked around her, striding towards the shop’s counter. _Could that be the focus? Far too impractical._ “Talked a little bit with Belle.”

Gold hummed and glanced at her, chest raising slightly quicker now. Glass mobile clinking above her head, Emma kept talking, a part of her wanting to spread her magic around the shop, deciding not to due to the weakness that would brought on her.

“She is lovely.” Emma replied to Gold’s words with one small nod, one hand still slightly at her back, the other falling at her side, playing a little with the hem of her jacket.

“She is.” She replied. “She is very curious of the outside of the world. The one she has never been able to see for herself.”

A ghost closely resembling of mirthless laughter crossed Gold’s face. Luckily for him, he refrained it, one hand clutching his walking stick as Emma kept walking one step closer to the man as he did so. The mobile above clinked twice.

“His father is a very strict man.” Gold’s lips were stretched thinly, eyes flashing. “I’m sure that in the future Miss French will have the opportunity to explore the world beyond the city line.”

“I’m pretty sure that if I leave this town without solving your _ghost problem_ she will never do that.”

Well, Lily knew she wasn’t subtle; she shouldn’t have told her to try to ask Gold.

Gold’s chest expanded and his magic felt as if crackling around Emma, her skin suddenly feverishly hoy as sparks played over her body, the man’s face stony as the magic touched her and left just as quickly.

“Miss Swan.” The man’s voice lacked the boom and power she had felt on the dinner the night before and the nausea didn’t return. Still, the warlock commanded power and Emma, reluctantly, nodded, waiting for him to speak. “I believe you will need to ask me a question so I can answer whatever your doubts may be. I very well can’t help Miss French problem.”

Crossing her arms and forgoing her magic attack, Emma took a step closer towards the man. She could punch him, she thought, if the man in front of her was holding everything together or wanted to use her to reinforce some kind of twisted hex…

“I want to know why the library books had been tampered with your magic.” Her voice was harsh and was swallowed by the walls around them, the unicorns above them clinking thrice. “And why the ruins are under a curse that is not from Regina considering she is a sorceress and the sigils didn’t seem like being from one.”

“We have a healthy fairy coven here…”

“And a warlock in front of me.”

This time, Gold didn’t protest against the title and the way he moved made Emma think again on how different he had been the night before. The power she had felt from him ever since she had first saw him seemed to have been syphoned out of him; the fear rush she had gotten at the dinner completely gone.

“Why is Regina being held in those ruins?” Emma knew that pressing wasn’t always the best option but she didn’t have the patience to wait for the man to finally put himself together. “Why is your magic cursing the entire town?”

Gold’s eyes narrowed but, eventually, gave up.

“The answer to both questions is Cora Mills.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments will be greatly appreciated!


End file.
